Demon in Morganville
by Alibi Nonsense
Summary: Immortal blood-suckers running rampant in a deserted Texan village and a crazed monster-child falling from thin air hell-bent on destruction... why isn't everyone extremely scared?
1. Chapter 1 - Easy Kill

They hadn't been that hard to massacre… not really. They'd been well built – constant, rigorous training hardening up their muscles – but, when they were more interested in darts that their eventual downfall, it wasn't even worth the screams. Gaara hated an easy kill; mainly because they were all easy these days. At ten, he was shorter than your average child (4ft 11" at the most), but it never stopped him killing… enjoying killing… thirsting for blood…

He was a bit like a vampire in that respect: he just didn't know when to stop…

And now he had dust on his tongue. It was an unpleasant sensation: bad enough to have dust on your feet, in your hair, muddying up your clothes, than to have it anywhere near your mouth. It was his own fault really (he knew that): flak jackets were always too dirty to lick, after all… but he just didn't think… Oh well, (he swallowed) not as bad as Yashamaru's medicine… Although he'd rather have Yashamaru and his medicine than… no. No he wouldn't. Yashamaru was dead. That was that.

He was at his front door now, key in hand, Yashamaru safely out of mind and …someone breathing down the back of his neck.

"Temari?" He turned around. She wasn't Temari.

"You'll do nicely," she hissed and, before he could react, they had landed on a cold, hard, lino floor.


	2. Chapter 2 - Glares and Bubbles

"AAAARGH! Omigodomigodomigod… those people just fell out of nothing…"

Gaara blinked. It had been night time when he'd been taken… had he fallen asleep? Woken up… was this hospital? It felt like a hospital… all cold white floors and strip lights. No. Wait. Someone was on top of him.

"Bishop will be pleased… whoever would've thought a child could do so much damage? They will be dead before they know what hit them…" all intertwined with a sort of gargled hissing. And then his captor evaporated, just like that. And Gaara was left, wide-eyed, on a cold, white, lino floor, thinking;

_This woman's a teleporter… That explains how I got here… That explains everything…_

And the girl, her bubble-gartered elbows still limply dangling amongst the dishes, was too shocked to move.

_Right_ she said to herself. _Panicking officially over. Time for…_ (breathe in, and out) _…tranquility… _(breathe in, and out) _… and biscuits._

"Where am I?" He had a deeper voice than she had expected… more sort of raspy. And, another thing… he wasn't looking scared either. That was weird in itself.

"Hey, um, kid? Er, look…" _How do I put this? You've just fallen into another dimension? Your escort was the lackey of a mass-murderer who just happens to be a vampire? Oh, and his daughter is the leader of this town._

"I want an answer," the boy growled. _Ok. That sounded dangerous._

"Um…" _Now, what was the question again? Aah, yes. The obvious._

"Morganville, Texas. Y'know, the United States?"

From the look on his face, he didn't.

"America? Earth?"

"…"

_Nope._

"The land of Earth?"

Well, that was a start. "The planet, Earth."

"No; the land of Earth. Iwagakure."

"There's no Ikaga-what's-his-face in Morganville, Texas. Or in America, for that matter."

"Suna?"

"Nope."

"Konoha?"

"Never heard of it."

"Kirigakure?"

"Sorry. Drawing a blank."

"Then it's true…" He seemed to be talking to himself. "It's a different dimension. I'm on a different planet."

And the weirdest thing about it was that the boy didn't actually seem to care.

Gaara did care. He cared a lot. And he was surprising himself. Oh, the people aspect was fine, yes… he didn't miss any of them at all… but Suna? Well, that was another thing. Suna was his home. And, no matter how badly he'd been treated there, it was the people, not the sand, that had done it. And it sort of seemed… well …like he'd left part of himself there…

**Stop being sentimental, boy. It was probably only your stomach.**

_Yes mother. Sorry, mother._

**And who is this girl?**

_I don't know._

**I'd normally say to kill her, but I think she could be useful to us.**

_What? How? Do you mean as in-_

**I mean lodgings. And food.**

_Oh._

**Well, get on with it, then…**

Gaara cleared his throat and the girl turned.

"Yes?" She said, stacking the bubbly plates in the drying rack whilst she ran some more water.

_She's not paying attention to me…_

**Just ask the question.**

"How will I get back?" _Wait, that wasn't the right question…_

"Get back?" The girl had paused in her plate washing and tensed.

"Yes. Get back." _It was a good question, though._

"I… I don't know." She turned and Gaara noticed the strange gothic make-up that rimmed her eyes and blackened her lips.

**I wonder what she eats…**

_It's make-up. Kankuro wears it._

**She eats make up?**

_Never mind. Forget I said anything._

Eve started glaring. The boy had just gone glassy-eyed on her!

"Earth to…" she started to say and then realised she didn't know his name. _Damn!_ "Um…"

The boy unglazed. "What?"

"You mean 'excuse me'."

"No, I mean 'what'. And I want an answer."

Right. Eve really didn't like this boy. "Just forget it. I was going to ask your name, but I guess I can just call you Brat."

"Gaara."

"What?"

"You mean 'excuse me'."

Eve blinked. "No… I do mean 'what'… and… what?"

"I said 'Gaara'. That's my name."

"Oh, ok. My name's Eve. Pleased to meet you, Gaara."

"I'm hungry. And this floor is cold. What time is it?"

"10 past 6. I'll get you some cake."

The cake was coffee-flavoured with white chocolate sprinkles. Eve cut two slices – one for her and one for Gaara – and, whilst he was eating that, she poured them both a cup of coffee.

"Milk and sugar?"

"No. Bitter's fine."

"Oh." She gave herself milk and sugar and came to sit beside Gaara who took the coffee and drank it as fast as he could. Eve looked at him.

_I guess I better take him home and get him to bed. He doesn't look tired, but, with kids, you never know._

"Come on," she said, "Let's get you home."

"Home?"

"Back to my house." And then she realised something. "You have no eyebrows."

Gaara glared: it was obviously a touchy subject. Eve would kill for a glare like that.

_I'll have to practise in the mirror. And on Shane._

Gaara stood up.

_What's that thing on his back? It's like a giant diablo with rounded ends, but it's way too big to do tricks with._

"What's that for?"

Gaara just glared. He hadn't forgotten the eyebrow thing.

They didn't talk at all in the hearse. Gaara didn't even look at her. He kept catching glimpses of dark shapes in the shadows; not that that bothered him. It bothered Eve, though.

The house they drew up at was square, bluey-white and free-standing. Its garden was ill-kempt but at least the weeds weren't quite waist height and the path was visible. Eve apologised.

"Shane was going to do it yesterday," she said, "but there were… complications."

She unlocked the door and Gaara noted with amusement that her purse was coffin-shaped.

**She's got rather unique tastes, hasn't she?**

_Unique indeed._

"Come on, Gaara."

"Is that you, Eve?" There was a shout from the kitchen and a boy about Eve's age wandered into the hall, his mouth stuffed with hot-dog and chilli.

"Hey, Shane. Brought a stray home." And the situation was explained to Shane, who blinked and wandered back into the kitchen, his mouth still full of sausage. Eve followed and there was more muffled explanation and then two more people wandered out of the kitchen. A girl and a boy. Both Eve's age.

"This is Gaara," she said, ruffling his hair, "And, Gaara, this is Claire and Michael."

He would've broken her hand but he wanted to make sure he remained on good terms with her, just until he could get back. In Suna he could break as many hands as he liked.

The curly-haired boy, Michael, said, "You haven't told him, I take it."

"No. No point worrying him unnecessarily. Poor kid."

The 'poor kid' regretted not breaking her hand.

"You're not telling me what?" he growled, glaring. The stopper of the gourd started to vibrate and his fingers itched.

_I want to kill…_

**That's my boy. But remember, good things come to those who wait. And, in this case, good things are lodgings and food.**

_But I want to kill now!_

They were all looking wide-eyed at the gourd now.

"What's in there, kid?"

"When I kill you with it, you'll know."

Shane laughed. "Man, this kid is awesome! How old are you, kid?"

"My name is Gaara of the Desert and I'm ten."

"So, what? Your dimension's, like, all sandy?"

"I live in Sunagakure. As far as I know, the only deserts are in the Land of Wind."

"So… Sunakure's in this Land of Wind place?"

"Sunagakure."

"Ok."

"It's a shinobi village."

"Shinobi?"

"Shinobi. And kunoichi. Mostly ordinary civilians. You, I take it, are ordinary civilians."

Shane smirked. "Ordinary civilians," he said, "Right."

Claire smiled. "Well, I'd better get-"

-KNOCK KNOCK—

"Who's that?"

"I don't know. Someone better check."

"Not me. I did it last time."

"Well, it's Michael's house…"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because…"

"Because you're scared?"

"… fine. I'll answer it."

Gaara frowned. It was a door, not a killing machine… He watched as the golden-haired Michael turned the key and pushed down the handle. He watched as the door swung heavily inward. He saw the lanky-haired youth smirk and attempt to stride in but be blocked by Michael. Eve had turned pale. Claire, the mousy-haired one, was holding her friend's hand and looking determined. Shane had automatically adopted a large, rather unwieldy ornament as his weapon of choice.

"Hi sis," said the boy, smirking at Eve. He licked the blood off his switch-blade.


	3. Chapter 3 - Jason

Michael's face had hardened. "What do you want?" he said and the boy's eyes narrowed.

"What d'ya think I want?" he snapped. "I wanna know what's going on."

Shane chuckled darkly, the heavy ornament smacking rhythmically across his palm. "You turn up here with a bloodied knife and you ask us what's going on? ARE YOU MORE INSANE THAN THE LAST TIME WE MET!?"

Inside Gaara, Shukaku was heartily applauding.

**How I wish I could be stuck inside ****him**** for a change. These people are so ****interesting****!**

The boy with the knife started whittling an obscenity into the door frame. Michael cleared his throat.

"What?"

"The blood."

"The blood doesn't concern you. I wanna know what's going on. I figured you'd-"

"Whose is it?"

"Some cleaner's. She told me what I needed to know."

A split second later, Eve had him by the throat. Strangely enough, it didn't seem to bother him.

"Let me guess. You tried to find me at the café but I'd left early so you interrogated a cleaner. She told you she'd seen me leave with some kid and, when she'd ceased being useful, you killed her! Is that it, Jason?"

Jason grinned, his teeth nicotine stained. "She told me you'd left with a boy. I thought she meant Glass."

Eve's lip curled. "Michael only comes to the café during daylight when it's serious."

"Exactly. So there's a kid, is there? Let me see him." His grin had switched to a leer. Eve's fingers left her brother's throat.

"What do you want from him?" Her voice was cold. "He's just a kid! You're just a kid!"

Gaara growled, peeling himself from the shadowed part of the room and making sure they saw the warning glint in his narrowed eyes. Jason smirked and Eve turned to glare at her charge who ignored them both.

"You're Jason, Eve's brother," he said, refolding his arms. Jason snickered. The older boy obviously thought him amusing.

"My name is Gaara. I am ten years old. You and I are the same."

Immediately he could feel them staring. The ones that had burnt him back in his home town were burning him here too. A small part deep inside his heart curled itself into a ball and tried not to cry. The rest of his heart just sneered. Gaara carried on.

"You stabbed that woman. Did she die?" He was curious. Was this Jason worth his time? The occupants of the room fell silent, disgusted looks on their faces. Gaara smiled slightly. "Is that a yes?"

Jason blinked. "What makes you think I murdered her? What makes you think anything? Just shut up!"

Gaara grinned eerily. "Death," he said, "Is an art. It should be done as slowly and as messily as possible."

Shane gritted his teeth. "You've killed?"

"Yes."

The room stood in silence.

"He's ten! The brat's just lying to get attention!" crowed the boy outside. "Ask him how many! Ask him to name them! Ask him how they died! That'll get him stumped! I bet he's never even seen a corpse, let alone been the cause of one!"

"The first one," breathed Gaara, "was my mother."

"YOU ASSHOLE!" That was Shane. He was angry, swinging his arm back to take a hit at the boy's head. Gaara smirked. The blow fell, stopped by sand. "What the…"

"I destroyed her body from the inside out. She died of blood loss. I was born prematurely."

Eve was white. Jason looked ill. Claire's frown had hardened into an expression of disbelief. Michael's jaw was taut and he was shaking. Shane just swung the ornament again.

"YOU BASTARD CHILD!"

"I think a couple of nurses died at the same time. The sand crushed them to death." Gaara clenched his fist and the ornament crumbled. Shane swore and his knees caved in.

"Between them and the next one I remember, I think I killed… around one hundred people. Crushed to death. Third-degree burns. Broken arms, legs, skulls, mangled limbs…"

"Stop…" croaked Jason.

"I killed my uncle when I was six. I killed my psychiatrist. I killed my medical ninja. I killed my class teacher. I killed-"

"Just-"

"Shut up. You wanted to know. I'm telling you. Did I mention that I nailed the corpses to doors? Dissected them? Drank their blood?"

"SHUT UP!" Shane swung his fist. There was a crunch. Gaara smiled.


	4. Chapter 4 - The Office Phone

"For you, my lady."

"Thank you, Oliver." She took the phone.

"Hello?"

"It's Claire! We're in trouble!" Amelie frowned. Oliver glanced at her, curiously.

"What can't you handle?"

"There… there's a …a boy… he… he… please come! Send Oliver if you have to, but we can't fight it on our own!"

"Fight what?"

But there was a beep at the other end and Claire had disappeared. Amelie's frown froze on her face. Claire could deal with most things that came her way: well too. That was what unnerved her. What could be so disturbing that Claire had to ring her up and beg her to come? Beg her to send Oliver even! There was something dangerously wrong here.

"Oliver?"

"M'lady?"

"We're going to The Glass House. Bring the equipment. All the equipment."

He looked at her curiously. "All the equipment, M'lady?"

"All the equipment."

He nodded. "I suppose the fledgling overstepped the mark. Again. Why can't they get it into their silly little heads that vampires and humans can't live together? Michael Glass. The vampire who couldn't understand the simple concept of prey. The failed vampire. The traitor vam-"

"Oliver. Cease this incessant mumbling and get the equipment."

Her lackey scowled and pinkened, but went to fetch it anyway. She was going to have to have a word with him later. A very blunt, very insulting, very demeaning word involving subtle hints about hierarchy and extreme displeasure. But that was later.

What could be so dangerous that even Claire couldn't handle it? She hoped the girl was holding out… Claire had promise.


End file.
